iStranded
by Alyzuh
Summary: Due to a last minute change, Sam and Freddie end up alone in a single engine plane minus the pilot on their way to the Entertainment Awards in Europe. What happens when the plane crashes, killing the pilot and leaving the two fighting for their lives?
1. Beginning the Journey

Freddie tapped his foot angrily. He didn't expect to be waiting for access to the plane for an hour. He hated the airport. It was full of busy, rude people bustling on by. All the chatter from so many different people in so many different ways turned the background noise into nothing but a meaningless, buzzing, annoying hum. Freddie could clearly see the planes outside the huge window – all perched in their lanes until ready for take off.

Not only was it noisy, loud, and the constant beep of machines and doors was annoying, he was flying to Europe with Sam Puckette.

Long story short, iCarly was invited to come to Entertainment Awards. Not only were there television casts and hometown actors, but web shows as well. It was huge.

But of course, it was held in Europe.

Freddie had a difficult time convincing his mom to get on the private five-person plane with Carly and Spencer. He wanted to prove he could do something without her constant guidance.

Of course, he had forgotten that meant he was riding with Sam. The changes were made last minute, as Freddie had a sudden burst of pride, and no one seemed to realize it would be unpleasant for almost everyone.

Sam was busy on the bench, munching down on some Cheese Puffz. Her partially shredding jeans were loose around her legs, and tied to her feet were some black sneakers. Her inside shirt was a Penny T which read in green, bolded letters "PUDDING PATROL", backed with a brown, cotton shirt. She had on a plaid sweater, and a light bag hung at her side. A leg was propped up over the other, and she simply eyed the door as much as Freddie did.

Once finished with her snack (which she forced Freddie to give her money for), she idly tossed it onto a sleeping, grungy man beside her, who appeared to be homeless with his baggy, torn, dirty clothes and unshaved facial hair, as well as a half ripped garbage bag clutched in his unwashed hands.

After glaring at the clock for what seemed like an eternity, the doors cracked open.

Sam jumped to her feet and pushed Freddie onto the floor with a "Get out of my way!"

Freddie followed, dusting off his light blue plaid shirt (which was over a long sleeve white shirt), scowling viciously all the way to the plane.

Before anyone could even process the short time between the waiting sections to the plane, they were on the plane. Freddie and Sam had climbed into the back (which was crowded with basic supplies and clothes for the pilot, as well as survival items, fuel and needless junk). Freddie buckled himself in tightly, relieved their wasn't a mother that scolded him for not getting secured faster. Sam, on the other hand, slumped back into her seat casually, silent and obviously not pleased with Freddie's sudden change of plans.

They both felt rather claustrophobic as the pilot pushed back the seats. He didn't seem to take care for the fact Sam wasn't secured, somewhat to Freddie's annoyance. They all remained quiet, only sounds of them shifting a few times before the pilot propped on his headgear and started the plane up. Both Freddie and Sam jumped at the sudden roar of the plane starting, much to the laughter of their private pilot. Sam scowled, but said nothing, pushing herself against the side of the plane, staring out he widow.

It was all going fine as they moved down the runway, but when the plane began to steadily rise into the air, Freddie found himself fiercely grasping the seat. Sam was frightened at how loose she was in the small plane, and quickly secured herself.

"What are you doing, trying to kill us?" Sam snarled, finally breaking the silence. Freddie said nothing but became an onlooker with somewhat of an interested for Sam's bickering.

The pilot only hooted again, and turned his head slightly to say,

"If I had been trying to kill you, you would have been dead by now." He chuckled, returning his attention to the sky ahead of him. Not like there was something he could hit so high in the air. Freddie peered out the window, felling his stomach drop as he realized how quickly the plane could rise. Despite the frightening height, everyone in that tiny, one engine plane knew that their journey had begun.


	2. The Storm

Freddie woke with a jolt. The steady drone of the plane faded to silence, and Freddie almost panicked. The pilot had somehow remained awake, despite the fact he only had one cup of coffee. The empty mug was tossed to his feet. Freddie groaned, sitting up. Sam was still asleep, looking almost innocent as she curled against the wall of the plane, her leg hung out, almost grazing the pant leg of Freddie's jeans. The sky was dark, and a few gray clouds hovered below the plane. Glancing out the window, Freddie couldn't make out any lights below. His voice soft, careful not to wake Sam, he asked, "Where are we? How long have we been flying?" Freddie poked the back of the pilot's seat, which replied rather swiftly for the time. "Just over the corner of France. Mountains are all below us. I'm a bit worried about the storm, though." He scowled.

Freddie stared out the window, surprised to see that there were a few flashes in the clouds, and black clouds were draped all around them. Freddie heard the pilot swear. "Due to the storm we—"

_CRASH!_

The plane jerked around violently when something struck them. Rain pelted the metal of the plane from all sides, and wind blew harshly. Sam was thrown up, only caught by her very loose seat belt. Warning lights began blaring and lighting up. The pilot swore several times.

Sam rubbed her head. "What was that?"

"We just got struck by lightning!" The pilot's voice was urgent. He picked up his radio and frantically began to speak into it, his words only answered by buzzing static.

"Tighten your seatbelts—" The plane jerked violently to the side and began to swiftly lose altitude. Freddie felt his stomach escape him. The pilot frantically called into his radio. The engine was out. Freddie fought to see Sam's eyes in the dim light, hoping for reassure from the tough young girl. But his panicked glanced was only mirrored by hers. Both of them fumbled with their straps and buckles to tighten their seats. The pilot fumbled with his controls as well, swearing many times under his breath as the thunder rolled above them as they dropped steadily through the clouds.

_Ping-ping-ping-ping-ping-ping-ping-ping-ping._

Hail began mixing with the rain. Sam was beginning to panic.

"Do something!" She cried.

"We're going to have to land!" The pilot snapped back. More thunder and the pounding of the hail and rain pretty much drowned out his voice. After many eerily quiet moments through the turbulence, the mountainside was finally in site. The engine practically dead, the pilot had to land the best he could, but with a practically accidental slip as his jittered nervously, they began a nosedive.

Freddie screamed and involuntarily grabbed Sam, and Sam did the same. All of their screams almost drowned out the steady beat of the rain and howling wind.

Freddie pulled Sam close in sheer panic, and they all shared the same thoughts.

We're all going to die.


	3. Landing

Freddie and Sam clung to each other for dear life as the plane plummeted. The pilot desperately pulled back, but the whine of the falling plane signaled it wasn't working. Sam let out a sob of sorrow, and before Freddie could collect his scrambled thoughts, they made impact. Freddie immediately lost coconsciousness, but not before he heard a sharp crack.

Freddie wasn't out for long. The cool rush of water flooding in woke him up. He removed his seatbelt, fighting to get the door open. Luckily for him, the plane landed on its side, with his side up. As he began to climb out, he realized with a pang of horror that Sam was still in the plane. Freddie practically fell back in, unrestrained the blacked out Sam from her seat, and tugged her out. The groan of the plane sliding downhill became obvious, but as he splashed into the water, struggling to keep Sam up, he was able to take a look back. The pilot's neck rolled lifelessly as the plane began to move downhill in the lake, and soon, there was nothing but a few items that had floating out on the surface. Sam's dead weight pulled him under too many times. As he lost breath each time he went under, his lungs screamed at him to let go and get his own air. Freddie gasped and splashed, fighting to keep both of their heads above water.

After what seemed like forever, Freddie finally reached the shore. His sopping shoes scraped at the sand and muck on the bottom, and Freddie tugged Sam to shore, gasping as he fell down next to her.

His breath escaped him. He heavily panted into the earth, taking in each sweet breath as if it was his last, reluctant to let air out as he breathed. Freddie coughed up water, more water, until it was all out. Freddie let out a soft cry, and hugged his knees to his chest as he stared at Sam.

"Oh no, please, no." He flipped halfway on his stomach, resting his ear on her chest. He didn't hear a thing, or perhaps he was too panicked to, because, he let out a sob, clasping his hands to his mouth and rocking back and forth. Intense loneliness flooded through him.

But he couldn't give up.

Sam couldn't die.

CPR?

His mom hadn't taught him much. She only taught him things to take care of himself, not others. But she had taught him CPR.

Nervously, he parted Sam's jaws, and with an intake of breath, he put his lips to hers.

One, two, three, four, five…

Or was it ten?

His grasped desperately, but went on, ignoring anything such as the fact she wasn't moving.

Lips. Breath out. One, two three four.

"Don't die." He muttered.

Sam's POV

Sam sputtered out water; it leaked from her lips, and all she could think of was she was cold and wet. She gasped for air, taking it in like it was a precious treasure she wouldn't trade for anything in the world. Not a single one of her breathes.

The sound of Freddie's victorious yelp jerked her into thought. Where was she?

Sam furrowed her eyes down in confusion as Freddie shook her shoulders, thudding her against the sopping wet bank.

"Sam, are you ok? I thought you were dead?" He shook his head. "I thought you were dead! You're not dead!" He cried.

"Obviously not." She scowled, coughing up a little more water. She shivered a bit, pulling her arms around herself as she sat up. "Where… Where are we?" She asked, rocking herself back and forth.

"We were just flying over some mountains in the middle of no where in France, when the plane crashed due to a storm…" Freddie replied, wiping off his lips. Both of their gazes led up to the sky. Luckily for them, the storm was beginning to roll away, and reveal the early morning sky.

It came flooding back to Sam.

They had come to the airport, taking off shortly after Carly, Spencer, and Mrs. Benson (if one hour later was shortly). She was extremely peeved at Freddie for screwing up their schedule. She had fallen asleep on the plane after Freddie did. Then she woke up to a violent storm. The engine of the plane got shot. She had grabbed for something to hold onto – that something had been Freddie, though she couldn't care at that moment -, and they nose dived into the ground – or the lake, if they were still alive.

They both stayed silent, shivering and occasionally meeting gazes.

After several minutes of silence, Sam finally asked, "So… what now?"


	4. Nightshade

Freddie stood, offering his hand to Sam, who readily rejected. She merely got up herself, stumbling after Freddie.

"Well, I suppose we find shelter…" He scratched his head, walking around the wide bend of the lake.

"Wait, you're honestly expecting that we're going to be stranded here?" Sam moaned. Freddie felt his stomach once again drop. The thought of never getting home made him want to sit down and cry, but there was no use in feeling sorry for himself, especially while Sam was with him. She'd strike him down for weakness under stress immediately. After walking in silence, Freddie lifted his hand to point to a pile of sticks and branches strewn over each other. Undergrowth and moss tightened it together, and Freddie pushed into it. It wasn't weather proof – it was extremely holey, but enough to protect them from small creatures. Almost conveniently, there was an extremely wide foxhole, which Freddie cautiously poked a branch into. Satisfied there was nothing inside, Freddie slipped into it, finding it slanted slight downward and the entrance was just barely big enough for two people, if they lied on their side. He found further in, it was too narrow, only small enough for something like a fox to crawl through. He was able to duck his head in a bit.

"This will be our shelter." He nodded, glancing at the small little, yet tight pile, of twigs. The foxhole was a plus, but they'd have to do more.

"Shelter. Check. Water. Check. Fire. No, Food, No." He shook his head. Sam remained silent, still having a difficult time processing everything.

"Good thing you're a nerd. This kind of things come in handy, Fredifer." Sam nodded, pursing her lips. Freddie fought a smile. It felt like he was home, and Sam's normal, jeering insults felt like the best thing in the world at that moment.

-=-==-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Freddie led Sam to the lake, but not before trouble sprung up.

Sam smacked her hand on Freddie's now only moderately damp chest, stopping him. "Fredly. Look." Her belly rumbled. She was pointing at vivid, bright berries. "I bet they're an aunt of cherries!" She cried, rushing forward. "Aunt? —" Freddie rubbed his head. Sam plucked many berries from the bush, cramming them into her mouth. "Oh, they're somewhat bitter, but also sweet. Mmmhm… Food…" She moaned with happiness.

Freddie realized something with a jolt. He struck Sam on her back, causing her to spit a few out, but it didn't stop her from swallowing a handful or two. Sam shoved him onto the ground. "What was that for, Benson?" She snarled, turning to attempt to take a few more.

"Those are nightshade! They're deadly!" Freddie snapped. "Spit them out."

"Aaarrhhhh." Her tongue dangled from her mouth, and the crimson berries rolled off her tongue off the ground. She must have swallowed several handfuls, and perhaps a few leaves if she wasn't paying attention. Sam screeched with anger, and tugged on Freddie's shirt angrily. "_Why didn't you tell me?!_" She didn't bother with an insulting pet name. Sam shoved his head down, causing him to fall. Sam spat vigorously. Freddie sighed. "

Nothing we can do, Sam." He yanked on her arm, signaling for her to follow. "It's getting late. We should sleep before getting real food and starting a fire… Though, is that necessary? We landed pretty much on course, so they should find—" Freddie smacked his head to his forehead. Sam was too busy spitting out the bitter taste to show much interest. "That storm! It must have sent us a few miles off course!" He cried.

He began to trudge back towards the shelter, crossly sitting the foxhole. After a few minutes of self-pity and angst, he realized that Sam had fallen down on the way there, but he was too worried and consumed with frustration to notice.

**(A/N: Sorry guys, my writing is getting crappy since it's getting late. Will update tomorrow.)**


	5. Freddie's Arms are Ready to Fall Off

Sam fell to the ground with a thud. Her curly, dirty blonde locks were sent askew around her. All that she could think of is that she had eaten some sort of deathcherries or nightberries or some other name. She desperately wanted to scream out for help, but a hard pain in her stomach kept her paralyzed in fetal position. Her head pounded. She felt dizzy, confused, and complete disoriented as she practically flailed as she tried to stand. Quickly worn out, she rested on the somewhat cold ground from the extremely early morning light, where the stars and moon had been chased away by the soon to be rising sun. Sam groaned with exhaustion and pain.

After what felt like an extremely long time, loud, swift footfalls came ringing into her ears. She felt awake, enough to hear and feel, but surely not enough to respond. Sam felt her throat searing with pain and as dry as if someone had dumped dust into her throat, making it difficult to swallow.

"Un." She was startled by a sudden touch, and shifted very, very slightly.

"Ho man!" Freddie's voice whined. "Why did she eat that nightshade? Why didn't I anticipate her eating everything in sight? Why didn't I warn her? Agh!" He scolded furiously, but Sam could only hear him there the thick, black wall that was her half-unconsciousness.

Sam felt another pang of pain, resisting whimpering now that Freddie was looming over her. She felt her face twist into a scowl, but didn't open her eyes.

Much to her surprise, she felt Freddie grab her hands and pull them over something warm… his neck, perhaps? Involuntarily, she let her hands meet in a grip around Freddie's neck. Sam felt hands tuck under her neck and in the crook of her knee. Freddie sounded a grunt, and Sam nearly panicked, as she felt weightless when she was lifted up.

**Freddie's POV**

Freddie jumped as he felt Sam's head roll to the side, resting on his shoulder. Sam's grip frightened him – it wasn't her usual python-like grip, but it was weak, like a regular girl's grip, and Sam's grip was not that of a regular girl's.

Freddie glanced down, noticing Sam's forced scowl. Freddie grinned grimly; while her ever-tough attitude was comforting, the fact that she had fallen ill was extremely discomforting.

Freddie trudged along in silence, and knew Sam had fallen asleep when she relaxed, her head resting heavily on his shoulder. He wanted to shiver uncomfortably as he felt her slow, drowsy breathes on her neck. Sam's face looked half-innocent while she slept.

After a longer time than usual, due to carrying a weight over a hundred pounds, Freddie flooded with relief as the shelter came into view. His arms were practically crying and ready to fall off. He was fighting not to drop Sam on the ground and lay down to rest.

Freddie found it hard to hold Sam as he ducked into the shelter, her head lightly bumping on his shoulder. He gently placed her down, half way into the foxhole, and ducked his head so her hands would slide off from their perch around his neck. Apparently he hadn't been gentle enough, because Sam had waken up.


	6. Discomfort

Sam felt a thud. Dust and sand got caught in the fabric of her clothes as she slid into the foxhole. Her eyes were squinted as she looked up, her mouth like a sideways D. Her eyes met the terrified eyes of Freddie, who expected Sam to beat on him for carrying her like that.

"Relax, I'm not going to beat on you, Benson. I'm too weak." Sam muttered, pulling herself into a C. Sam could imagine his face, drained of fear and replaced with an extremely disheartened look. Sam, too weak? She wanted to cry. She wanted so badly to be home. She wanted to be home, back in the studio. She wanted to raid the Shay's fridge again like she usually did. She wanted Carly cheerfully chirping beside her, and Freddie's dorkish smile as he aimed the camera at the two show hosts. Sam held herself, trying not to shudder in the way she did when she cried. The hard lump in her throat was hard to fight, and she felt her eyes wet. She didn't want to be sick and weak. She wanted to be able to beat Freddie for carrying her like some sort of weak little girl. But she couldn't cry. Not in front of Freddie. Ever.

"Sorry I gave you CPR." Freddie chirped out of the blue.

"You what?!" Sam yelled, not bothering to uncurl.

"Well, you weren't breathing!" He replied crossly.

"And you're mentioning this, why?" Sam snapped. Freddie shrugged.

"Thought I'd get anything embarrassing out right now." He retorted.

"It's not like it matters. We've… kissed…before. Twice marks that record, then." Sam heh'd lightening the mood, but her face was curled into a playful scowl. She found it easier to fight off the tears.

"No, that marks three times." Freddie grunted, lying on his back in an awkward way.

"What?! Did you like sneak kiss me in my sleep?!" Sam found strength to flip over on her back and coil her fingers around Freddie's arm.

"I'm talking about our date! You had your lips all over me then!" Freddie retorted.

"I only told you were right about me having a twin or not just to get you to shut your trap, idiot!" Sam snapped. "I hate you, why would I kiss you because I liked you?!"

Freddie seemed almost stung as Sam's words flew. There was a silence, before Freddie croaked,

"After all I've done for you… you still… hate me?" Freddie croaked. Sam felt his glare burning into her as she lied on her back; neck craned the wrong way to look at Freddie.

"What have you done for me?" Sam left out a pet name as she snarled.

"I've never done anything horrible to you, even after all I put up with from you, I carried you here—" Freddie was cut off,

"—Even though I could have made it back myself—"Sam finished.

"Whatever. But I pulled you out of the plane, I saved your life when I gave you CPR, I've loaned you tons of money, I shared your first kiss to save you the embarrassment, and I got rid of Missy!" Freddie snapped. Sam looked confused.

"No you didn't, she just won that stupid School at Sea trip. Besides, sharing a kiss with a nerd like you is embarrassing enough!" Sam snapped, but Freddie ignored her last point and continued.

"I won the trip, not Missy. But I gave it to her just to get her to leave. Do you know how hard it was to give up that cool trip? Do you know how hard it was to admit to Carly I cared about you?" Feeling he had said too much, Freddie flipped onto his feet and stormed out.

Sam felt extremely stung, just somewhat flattered, but most of all – guilty, as he recalled all the events, feeling enough strength to sit up and hug her knees (many grunts and groans involved, including falling back one or two times). She gently rocked herself, fighting just breaking down. She wanted to go home. She wanted to destroy the guilt that was eating her alive. She wanted not to feel so sick, feverish, and confused. It was only getting steadily worse, as she found she couldn't sit up much longer. Sam dropped roughly on her side, the pain like someone twisting a knife in her stomach, and a fever steadily rising as the mid-day approached. Fever escalating, as well as the headache, Sam whimpered as her head pounded. She felt so wet with sweat, like someone had just dragged her out of a boiling lake. The nausea was overwhelming, and she felt her throat screaming with pain as nothing but half-digested berries and stomach acids leaked from her lips. Sam let out a loud sob. It was worse than when she ate those rancid Persian chocolates. Sam curled, shuddering a few times. She felt like someone had thrown her in the oven, and her stomach was cooking itself first.

**Freddie's POV**

Freddie angrily tramped out of the shelter. How could Sam be so unappreciative?! His footsteps disturbed dust and grass that was basking in the noon sun, from the way the sun hung directly overhead, like a single eye watching over him. The length of the lake from the shelter was equal to that of two -or three street blocks. As of then, Freddie could care less if Sam died in the hole she lied in. Nothing but the soft chirp of birds, and the occasional rustle of a creature lurking in the undergrowth were heard as he trotted at a rather swift pace. His strides became shorter as he slowed – the lake was in sight. It was clearer than most lakes he saw – probably the result of the fact there wasn't civilization for miles around. Freddie cautiously stumbled down the bank (sure to remove his socks, shoes, and roll up his pants), letting out laughter of relief as cold water washed over his feet. He felt sickened by the fact there was a dead man at the bottom of the lake, and didn't wade out farther than his knees. He splashed water over his faces, cupping water with his hands and drinking. He was so thirsty – and as the cool liquid quenched his dry throat, Freddie felt almost relaxed for the first time.

He didn't know how long he spent just drinking water, occasionally running his sopping hands through his water. However, when he opened his eyes, and observed a bit more, he realized off to the side about twenty feet was a long piece of rope.

Freddie splashed through the water and picked it up – it was about fifteen feet long. Once more, Freddie noticed a white object bobbing on the horizon. Freddie slung the rope over his shoulder. He made his way to shore and walked over the land. It took him awhile, but he was able to retrieve a pillow floating on the surface. A few empty bottles also hovered on the surface nearby, which Freddie dropped into the pillowcase of the pillow. Freddie thought sadly this was all he could find, until something rather colorful floated several feet away. He dropped off his collected items by shore, and picked it up. It was backpack like, caught in a rope. Popping it open, the first thing he saw was foam, like the kind in life jackets. Tearing into it, he found something that made him scream with joy.

It was a survival kit. The pilot had been smart enough to stuff it with floatation devices. Freddie grabbed the rope and the pillowcase, slung the kit over his back, and ran, yelling out. He had almost completely forgotten his spat with Sam as he burst into the shelter.

"Guess what? Sam, I found—" He glanced down, and dropped everything, including his jaw.

Sam had painfully crawled out of the hole to avoid the vomit, and had practically collapsed in the center of the shelter. Her face was flushed red, and sweat streamed down her forehead. She clutched her stomach, her face twisted with agony as she whimpered and gasped. Her breath was quick, shaky and shallow. As Freddie fell to his knees, he pressed his hand to her head. It was extremely hot. Freddie noticed the vomit, and tore open at the survival kit. It was very basic – food, water, some sort of whistle with a flint stone, mirror, compass, and little string for around the neck. Ibuprofen, and a few gauze pads. There was a tightly folded tarp, a sleeping bag, and a folding knife. He snatched up the knife and cut into his shirt, taking piece of his shirt and dumping the water on it.

What was that little thing his mom taught him?! When the face is red, lift the head, when the face is pale, lift the tail? That was it. He crawled over, and propped her head up into his lap. Such close contact with Sam made him want to shudder with fear, but he was aware of the fact. But he couldn't take him his usual dislike of Sam right now. Her life was at stake. Freddie slapped the wet clothe over Sam's head, whom he felt instantly relax. Her whimpers subsided, and she closed her mouth. Freddie reached over to grab a container of water, and held it threateningly over Sam's mouth. "Open your trap." He instructed.

"Don't tell me what to do, Fredward." Sam rasped, but as she spoke, Freddie managed to drop water into her mouth, which she readily coughed back up. Freddie hissed with frustration. Why was Sam so freaking prideful?

**Sam's POV**

Sam once more fought against unconsciousness as she was curled into a tight ball, desperately rasping in short, shallow breathes. Why did she even eat those nightcherries or whatever? She crawled out of her little hole, not wanting to lie in there. But it was so painstakingly hard to just move a foot or two. She let out a gasp as she curled up once again, but she half snarled as he lifted her head. She wanted to yell at him, "Don't touch me! I can take care of myself!" but he slapped a wet clothe on her head. Sam relaxed, feeling the cool water chase away the fever and headache. That was good enough for her, but of course, Freddie wanted to give her water. She was defiant, but he got in there anyway. She coughed it out on purpose, though she greedily pulled it from his hands and quenched her thirst.

The after noon sun filtered into the shelter as time went on. Sam could tell Freddie was impatient to move by the way he jittered, and it was both an awkward, uncomfortable situation for both of them. Sam was constantly taking in water, and at one point, she took an ibuprofen pill, trying to flush things out of her system. By the time the sun began to sink, Sam's pain in her stomach wasn't as bad, more like just a cramp. Her headache was light as well, but her fever was replaced with chills.

**Freddie's POV**

Freddie jerked up. He had fallen asleep, and apparently Sam had as well, her head resting in his lap still. He was lying back, but sat up, shaking his head. He had grown only slightly more comfortable with Sam's head there, but he was glad to replace his lap with a pillow. The night had fallen swiftly, but there was work to do before he could sleep. Freddie unzipped the single sleeping bag and tossed it over Sam after seeing her shiver. He brought out the tarp, unfolding it with difficulty. He had trouble not making much noise as the plastic rattled, but managed to throw it over the shelter, water proofing it, and tying it down with the rope.

He had one of the (disgusting) food bars that came in the survival kit. While he was happy to have his stomach full, the gross aftertaste that lingered was unwelcome.

Freddie had gathered much wood, and ordered it nicely. He nested a few leaves and small twigs in the center, lit it with the lighter, and watched the fire eat through the wood. Kind of like Sam. He thought darkly, watching the fire flicker before standing up.

Freddie made a few trips to refill the water bottles, and finally, he was ready to sleep by the time it was early morning or late at night – he couldn't tell. A shiver passed through him, and he enviously eyed the drowsy Sam, who remained unusually tired due to the lingering ill effects of the nightshade. But she must have gotten lucky and spat out and puked up most of the berries. She'd just have to deal with the ill effects for a while.

Freddie sat crossly by the fire. The warmth of the fire was comforting, but he was still cold, especially since it started pouring. While the fire was slightly covered, there simply wasn't enough room in the shelter to bring it in.

The pounding rain managed to weaken the fire, but not kill it off. The smoke kept the mosquitoes away, but the fire didn't provide as much warmth.

Freddie eyed Sam's sleeping figure, his eyes flashing with envy of her warmth. He let out a silent sigh of frustration as Sam began to shiver in sleep, despite the fire, secured shelter, blanket and pillow.

Freddie bit his lip thoughtfully, his dark brown eyes thoughtful as well. Both hands held one knee, and the other leg was idle to the side. He was hunched over, avoiding leaning on the wall of the shelter. His shirt was torn thanks to cutting off the fabric for Sam. His hair was wild and he was thankful he didn't have thick, long wild hair like Sam. His baggy jeans were filthy and somewhat wet, and his shoes and socks were set off to the side. He was cold, Sam was cold.

Biting his lip viciously, the sheer idea he had was discomforting, yet comforting at the same time.

Making his decision, he very carefully crawled over and lifted Sam's cover, facing her back. He was silent and moved slowly – though every sound seemed like a jet engine to him. Freddie carefully slid next to Sam, and as he lay, facing away from Sam, he found it cold like that. Sam was still shivering; he was still a bit cold. Hesitantly, he turned towards her, but laying on his arm the other over his side felt so awkward and stiff. Even more hesitantly than turning towards her, he lifted his arm over Sam, and scooted closer. His discomfort rose drastically, but it was washed away by comfort.

Though it was difficult to sleep, the fired died down slowly as the night lived, the sun sunken under the horizon.

An end to a very, very, long, long, long, day.

----

_**Very long, but I tried to keep it as OC as possible, while still straying into some odd stuff.**_

_**I'm sorry if finding a survival kit is a bit too easy for you guys, but I'd like to make this a bit different from Hatchet and Castaway, lol.**_

_**Criticism welcome.**_

_**Going to head to bed.**_

_**-Aly  
**_


	7. Rude Awakening

Sam woke (but didn't open her eyes, mind you), finding her chills and shivers from the night before was gone, but that didn't mean she didn't have a headache, stomachache, and mild fever. At that moment, she felt rather warm and cozy. She could feel her warm breath bouncing off the sleeping bag and back at her, and her hands were tossed over her pillow. Sam listened to the light drizzle of the morning, and as she found her breath go quicker than that of a sleeping person, she realized that there was something else breath. Her pillow was at her head, not in her hands. And something was over her waist…

Sam's eyes flew open. She had to resist screaming – her face was right next to Freddie's sleeping head, his expression peaceful as he dreamt. His arm was tucked just under her arm, and what she thought was a pillow was actually Freddie.

Sam was biting her tongue so hard to resist from shouting. No, she wouldn't wake him up like that, she planned to hit him upside the head several times screaming, "How DARE you?!" Sam tossed off the cover, causing Freddie to shiver coldly and unconsciously pull closer to his warmth source, Sam.

Sam could almost feel blood as she bit down hard on her tongue. Very, very slowly, she edged away from Freddie, replacing herself with the bunched up blanket, in which he began to move about in his sleep.

"Carly." He murmured, pulling the blanket close to him and kissing it tenderly. Sam felt utterly disgusted – how many times had he done that during the night?! Sam wiped her lips uncomfortable. She stepped outside, and fetched a wet piece of charred wood, and aimed it right over his head, waiting for him to kiss the blanket again before she hit him. She had trained her cat like this, and wasn't afraid to do that to Freddie.

Freddie's POV

Raced through the open meadow, seeing Carly's hair bobbing in the sunlight as she ran, a frilly dress trailing behind her.

"Carly!" Freddie called joyously, Carly returning it with a soft "Fredward." A rather strange way to address him (usually Sam did that), but nonetheless, he ran forward, hugging his arms around her. Carly did the same at some point, and they held each other there, breathing on each other slowly. For a long time they stood like that, kissing each other tenderly a few times. Her lips were gentle and soft, always how he imagined them.

One final time, he whispered her name, and kissed her. He waited a few seconds, before pressing his lips to her again.

Out of now where, Carly was holding a piece of wood. She let out a roar, and hit him square on the top of his head.

Freddie jolted awake, his head flaring with pain, stinging from the hit. Carly had turned to Sam, and as he sat up, confused, the charred piece of wood connected with his cheek.

He had been sleeping next to Sam – he remembered this with another jolt. But, Carly's lips felt so weird – and why did she call him Fredward?

This was when Freddie realized both him and Sam moved and spoke in their sleep.


	8. Descision

Freddie took another hit, Sam roaring to him, "How DARE you?!" She beat on whatever he wasn't desperately trying to defend with his hands – his stomach, his head, and his face, whatever was open. After awhile, Freddie just lay, back away from her, pulling his hands and knees over his torso.

Sam was breathing heavily, and tossed the wood off to the side. "I hoped you learn your lesson, Freddid." Sam ha'd at him, and sat, digging through the first aid kit, pulling out a bar that clearly said "FOOD" across it. Sam tore open at the wrapped and greedily dug into it, her happy expression replaced with disgust.

"What is this jank stuff?" She asked, eyeing the bar in confusion.

Freddie hobbled to his feet, and crawled over to the survival pack, reaching into it, but Sam smacked him with the 'jank', half eaten food bar a few times before he could get something out.

"You don't deserve to eat, Fredward." Sam frowned, easily leaving Freddie to eat as she ate herself. She couldn't deny him food – especially since he had more of an idea of what to do than her.

Freddie shuddered as he eerily connected the way she scolded him with his full name and the way Carly had said it in his dream. No doubt he had practically made out with Sam while they slept. Freddie kept on shuddering; inching away from Sam each time he took a bite. Sam shot a menacing stare at him and didn't remove it, like she was going to beat him down again once she finished eating.

Her lips had been so soft – like the day they had kissed, and tender, too. But… he had liked it. A lot. But it was Sam, for crying out loud.

However, he for some reason just wanted to feel those soft lips again, even though they were attached to some beast.

"So, Fredward." Sam tossed the wrapper into the pile of charred wood. "You see, I would kill you for having your lips all over me last night," Sam snarled, "But if you're injured, you'd be useless in getting out of here. I'm going to wait until we're home, so when I beat on you, they can put you in hospital." Sam nodded, as if approving her own statement. Freddie was silent, and shook his head.

"Well thanks for your concern, Puckette." He sneered. "… But there's no guarantee we're going to get out of here." Freddie sighed. "So if you want a chance to ever eat a meatball again, you have to avoid beating the fudge out of me, alright?"

Sam glared at Freddie. How would she be able to stand not beating him?

"Ohg." Sam dashed out of the shelter. Freddie heard a discomforting sound of an upchuck, and sighed. That food bar was wasted. Sam stepped in, her eyes closed and her face pale.

"I feel sick." She said softly, sitting down a way aways from Freddie, staring sadly into the distance. Freddie was silent, feeling uncomfortable. There was no way he could comfort her.

"We'll have to travel." Freddie said suddenly changing the topic. Sam jerked her head up in confusion. "We'll have to get out of this valley. Rescue planes can't see us down here. We'll have to up on the top of the mountain." Freddie finished.

Sam looked horrified.

"If you think I'm going to climb that mountain, think again!"

"Do you want a chance at getting out of here?"

"Yes!"

"Do you want to see Carly again."

"I know you do." Sam scowled, but quickly hid that. Freddie looked confused, and Sam just twisted his arm before running out of the shelter, pulling off the tarp. "Get packing then!" Sam yelled, running around to shake off the water.

So it was decided.

They would travel up the mountain.


	9. Lost Puppy

They both pressed onward. Sam had slung the pillowcase over her back, a few bottles of water inside. Freddie had the backpack carried like he was heading to school.

The forest was dense. Vegetation had sprung from all corners of the forest, some places only ankle deep with weeds, others waist deep with tall flowers and such. The forest was constantly alive – with gnats, mosquitoes, and flies bugging them at every turn, the trip wasn't a pleasant one. They hadn't even reached the mountain, and when they did, Freddie lifted his head towards the peak.

"I don't know about this anymore." Freddie panted, dropping on his rump. Sam sat besides him, pulling out water and tossing one to Freddie. Both of them viciously gulped down water, letting out a gasp of relief once finished with their drink. As Sam stood, ready to go (despite her ever-constant headache, stomachache, and fever. Her pupils had become rather dilated as well.), Freddie fell back; laying in the opening they had paused at. He let out a groan, arms splayed by his head. Sam glared downward. "Do I have to carry you, Fredwimp?" Sam sneered. Freddie rolled his head towards her.

"I carried you, both here and in Japan, so get to it, Ms. Puckette." Freddie growled good-heartedly. Sam shrugged, and as Freddie stood, she flung him over her shoulder. His head banged on her back, and his feet dangled in front. Sam had her arm over Freddie's back to keep him from falling, though Freddie felt extremely insecure. He squirmed and struggled, until Sam dropped him on his back only about fifty meters away.

"There. Now get up." She ordered, beginning to walk. "I'm a girl, and I've got deathshade poisoning. You're a guy, and you can barely keep up! What would Carly think?" Sam called, not looking back as she trudged ahead.

"I don't care what Carly thinks!" Freddie called back, racing up to get ahead.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

They had made it to a point where the land was almost slanting directly upward. It was very steep, and the two decided to camp on the last bit of flat land they could find.

The tarp provided a lot of space – about a seven foot by six-foot zone. It was propped up on various sticks, and parts held down by random rocks they had managed to find.

The fire blazed, crackling and popping as it hungrily burnt the wood that Sam and Freddie had provided.

Sam had the sleeping bag wrapped around her, while Freddie sat across from her, clutching the pillow as his only warmth. He glared jealously at Sam's warming cover. Sam only returned it with a look. "It's not my fault you make out with whatever's nearby when you sleep." Sam growled. "Otherwise, maybe we could share. But poor Fredwina, has to make out with his pretend stuffed animal, me, when he forgot his teddy bear for practice at home." Sam pulled the blanket tighter around her, smiling to show her comfort in the blanket.

Freddie's expression turned from jealously to a downright sad gaze, directed at Sam. They held eye contact for a mere moment, before Sam looked away, scowling. His pathetic look was convincing – like a lost puppy. A giant, dorky, lippy lost puppy that follows you everywhere and enjoys giving you kisses especially when you don't want them. Who knows where a puppy's mouth has been, anyway?

Not only that, but the rain once more began to pour. The fire was actually under the shelter this time, but this didn't stop the air from being damp and cold. Freddie shivered a few times, his back towards Sam as they both took cover under the propped up tarp. Freddie lied down, and after many long minutes of watching the bushed boy, Sam was finally convinced he had fallen asleep.

Sam stole his pillow, but replaced it with the thick sleeping bag. Besides, she thought she felt a night sweat. In reality, she didn't, but if he asked, that would be her excuse. Not like she cared about him, anyway.


	10. Raspberries

Freddie found himself once again in a meadow, the surroundings bleached in sunlight. He felt himself running, seeing once more Carly's brunette hair bouncing up and down as she ran. "Carly!" He called out, but less enthusiastically than last time. Her frilly short skirt and shirt was tight around her. But the strangest thing happened – her tame, brown locks turned wild, curly and golden. Her eyes blazed a fiery, clear blue instead of her normal muddy brown. Her gentle smile was replaced by a wide grin. Instead of a revealing short skirt, she now had baggy jeans. Her heels turned to bare feet, and her shirt was covered in a plaid jacket. Sam stepped up next to him, grinning up at him quietly. As Freddie curiously reached down to stroke her face – how had it changed? – He saw her grin vanish. He paused, realizing the meadow had been set ablaze. Both of them began to run, but he couldn't go anywhere for some reason. Sam turned abruptly, her face twisted in horror. Freddie looked at his hands – they were on fire. His face twisted with agony as the fire blazed over him, and Sam's horror-filled face turned to his own reflection.

Freddie watched himself burn.

Freddie gasped, jerking up into a sitting position. He pats himself, making sure he wasn't burnt, and eyed the fire warily. But another thing surprised him – a thick sleeping bag covered him. He glanced over at Sam, only to find a pillow. Freddie panicked. Shakily, he called out her name.

"Sam?"

Boom.

Freddie fell forward as a piece of wood hit him behind his head.

"And that's what you get." Sam chirped. Freddie sat up, rubbing his head.

"Get for what?" Freddie snapped, groaning with slight pain. Sam paused, as if her original reason couldn't be spoken.

"For being a pathetic dork, that's what." Sam poked more fun, and shoved some sort of crimson thing in her mouth.

"Sam, what are you eating?!" Freddie grabbed her hand worriedly – but he let out a sigh of relief as he saw they were only raspberries.

"What doe it look like, Freddie?" Sam chuckled, greedily shoving her mouth full of the sweet, soft fruit. Freddie found it strange she hadn't used some sort of insulting pet name, but reached for a raspberry anyway. Sam jerked away, and pointed at a pile that had been set up for him.

"These are mind, Frediot." Sam growled like a ravenous dog, shoving more of the berries into her mouth. As Freddie reached for his pile, Sam caught him with a smack on his face. His face was sticky and red, and a berry was half in his nose. Freddie turned, glaring at Sam. He grabbed a handful, and shoved it into his mouth, before taking another, and smearing it over her face.

"Uh!" Sam squealed. Her eye twitched in irritation, but she burst into laughter. Sam slapped some raspberries into Freddie's hair, and slathered them. While he flailed defiantly, his laughter showed he didn't as mind as much as he should have. He spat out a few petite seeds at Sam, who jumped back to avoid it. Freddie planted a raspberry covered palm onto Sam's sleeve, who snarled and slapped him with a similar raspberry paw.

After they were both soaked in red juice, Sam looked at Freddie, the laughter gone.

"Ick." Freddie lifted an arm and flicked off the red juice.

"How do I look?" Sam looked Freddie dead in the eye, a drop of red juice rolling down her cheek

"Like a raspberry." He replied, leaning towards her.

"And how do I smell?" Freddie asked. Sam shoved him back, leaving another light print of red on his shirt.

"Like someone who needs a bath." Sam laughed and scrambled out of the shelter.

Freddie was lightly stung, and ran after her. "You don't smell too good yourself, Puckette!" Freddie called.

A river came into their site, and Freddie hooted. He threw off his shirt as they began a race. His shoes and socks flew off, and Sam's shirt came off (as well as kicking off her shoes), revealing a customized bra.

Freddie winced as they splashed into the water, laughter ringing into the air. Freddie ducked under, coming up running his hair through his previously red hair, diluted red juice running down his average chest. Sam flopped into the water, a lot of the red juices coming out of her hair and departing from her skin.

Freddie rubbed at his pits (which he had to admit did smell) with water. He began to wade deeper, until with one lunge, he was splashing around as he swam. Sam laughed, only wading in until water lapped at her midriff.

Freddie threw a splash at her, and once he was satisfied he was clean, he waded out next to Sam, throwing his head around like a wet dog, sending droplets everywhere.

"Jeez!" Sam cried out. "Every day, I'm more and more convinced you're just a dog in a dork costume." She sarcastically poked at his actions. "Though I'm sure no dog would want to be a Fredward Benson."

Freddie barked and panted, his dog-like noises replaced with both of their laugher.

"Hey Sam…" Freddie's voice slowed. "You uh… got some red left on your face."

Sam furrowed her eyebrows down. "Where?"

"Here."

Before Sam could process what happened, Freddie leaned in and roughly pressed his lips to hers. In the shock, Sam stood dumbfounded for a few moments before pulling away, slapping Freddie hard in the cheek, apparently the hardest she's ever had, because Freddie stumbled backwards into the water.

"You disgusting dog!" Sam screeched, beginning to tramp towards shore.

"Sam, wait—" Freddie stood, only to yelp a moment later as Sam whirled and kicked him where the sun don't shine.

Freddie howled with pain as he double over, grunting as he fell. He panted, his hands holding him up.

Guilt tore through him as he heard Sam's sopping footsteps grow fainter.

He and Sam were finally getting along, and he ruined it by pretending Sam was Carly.

Or did he?

He didn't remember thinking of Carly as he kissed her, only Sam.

Just Sam.


	11. Is it just me, or is it hot in here?

Sam ran, her shoes, socks and shirt all clutched in her hand and smacking on her body a few times as she ran, wet hair flailing behind her.

That kick in his groin would keep his distracted for a while. Sam kicked dust and dirt over the fire, killing it. She yanked the wet tarp around, before folding it up. She shoved the sleeping bag into Freddie's pack. She packed the rest of it, trying to keep her thoughts away from what had just happened.

His bag was set neatly, and Sam sat by it, staring down at the red mess left over from their food fight. The laughter rung in her ears, and she had just learned better than to get close to boys. They just toyed with your emotions – that's what they did. She hugged her knees, stiffening as she heard Freddie's footsteps from a distance. Sam picked up his bag and ran into the undergrowth.

Freddie stumbled into the clearing. Sam could see his clothes had been sloppily thrown on. He turned, many times, grabbing his hair and letting out shouts of despair.

"Saaaam!" He called, cupping his hands over his mouth. "Saaaam! Saaaaam! Puckeeetteee!"

WAM.

Sam hit him over the head with his pack and ran as fast as her legs could carry her. She only looked back once, making sure he was getting up, before pressing on.

She didn't know how long she ran. She didn't know how long it was until the pounding of her feet faded into the background, nothing but a consistent noise that meant nothing.

Nothing.

It seemed like she had been running forever when she tripped – an erect, broken stick cutting into her leg.

Sam let out a shriek of pain and stumbled head over heels into the undergrowth. Sam felt a 'sssss' of pain escape her lips. A short cry erupted from her mouth, and she began to sob. Everything felt so awful.

The nightshade, the plane wreck, the cold nights, and Freddie's mind all caused this. The build up of emotions and stress over the last few days came out in the form of hot tears streaming down her face. Her back jerked around in the way people did when they cried. Her leg streamed with blood. What kind of wimp was she? Crying because of a little cut!

No, it was more than that.

Sam tried to silence her sorrow as she pushed back into the bushes as she head footsteps. Her breaths shaky and pain shooting through her leg, she sat back, remaining as still and quiet as possible.

Freddie cried out her name many times, his voice becoming more and more audible as he came closer.

"Saaam!" He called, his backpack hitting against his back. "Where are you, Sam?" He cried. As he was only a few feet away, Sam let out a sob that she couldn't hold in.

"Sam." Freddie mumbled softly, crouching onto the ground. Fingers un-curled, palm held out, it was like Freddie was temping a shy animal out of the undergrowth.

"Go away, you tramp!" Sam managed to shout through her tears. "At least until these girl emotions are gone!" Sam snarled, holding her head into her lap.

Freddie crawled into the bush, scooting next to her, whom shoved him over. He fell over, but sat up. After several times, Sam just gave up, and tightened herself into a ball, crying louder as Freddie hesitantly draped a hand over her shoulders, startled when Sam just banged her fist on his chest, then hugged her arms around him. They held each other, and Freddie found himself crying as well. "Look at us!" Sam wept. "We're stranded in the middle of the Francian wilderness after a plane crash. I ate some berries, which nearly killed me, and you, you're just… a tramp! You kiss me and pretend I'm Carly. What the hell am I supposed to think, Freddie?!"

"I can't respond to anything you're blubbering about –" Sam punched him in the chest. "—But I can safely say I'll be here no matter what." Freddie sniffed.

Sam looked up at him in confusion. "But—"

"Stop saying but! That's all that matters! We're here for each other, right?"

"But—" Sam snapped.

Freddie pushed his lips onto hers to silence her. Sam's eyes were wide open, and when he pulled away, she slapped him again. Freddie ignored the sharp pain, and kissed her again roughly, feeling her softly lips. He pushed away from the ground towards her, pushing her over on to her back.

"Cut it out—" Sam was interrupted, and finally gave up, closing her eyes and lifting her head to meet Freddie's lips. Her arms took a python-like grip around his waist, and he pushed his hands onto the ground, staying directly off her, but he still hovered over her. Breath quick, they only broke away from each other to breath.

"Bensen…" Sam muttered through a kiss.

"Puckette?" Freddie responded.

"Is it just me, or is it hot in here?." Sam breathed, her sentence finished with a kiss.

"Really?" Freddie mumbled, rather pleased.

"No, really, it's hot." Sam pulled away, sitting up. She took a deep whiff, and her sleeve flew up to cover her nose. "I smell smoke." She grabbed Freddie's arm and yanked him to his feet.

Fire suddenly streaked down a path, so unnaturally. Freddie stared at the hungry flame. It had been his friend only hours ago, and now, it threatened his life.

This wasn't right.

Another smell hit him, through the soot and smoke, a smell that made him positive this wasn't a forest fire.

Gasoline.


	12. French Accents

Freddie's arm flew over his mouth, coughing as the putrid smell of gasoline and smoke rose. Sam led him, tugging on his arm. Soot danced devilishly on the wind, and he could barely see as they stumbled through. Other than Sam's footsteps, he could hear the sounds of a small group ahead of him? What was going on?

Thump.

Freddie had tripped, his leg deep in muck and tangled in bushes. His backpack was caught in branches of a bush, and Sam stumbled. "Idiot!" She snapped pulling his arm. Freddie was coated in unlit gasoline, and as the fire blazed at an increasing speed, he felt scared for his life for the second time in such a short period.

Sam yanked him out of the muck, snapping small brambles, but his arm was twisting in the backpack strap. He twisted to free the backpack. It was essential to their survival! He whipped out his knife and cut and stabbed at the branches.

"Leave it, you can easily get your arm free and run!" Smoke was rising and fogged around him. Sam called, tugging on him hard.

"No! We need it!" Freddie snarled, but the branches lit on fire. The backpack lit on fire, and finally, his gasoline coated clothes lit on fire.

Freddie screamed in pain, and Sam screeched with fear. Smoke rose into Freddie's mouth, and he coughed violently, but couldn't get free. Sam snatched the knife out of his hand, and cut the strap. Freddie screeched bloody murder as the flames reached his skin, greedily lapping at the gasoline and burning his skin for more. They both felt their consciousness slipping, and Freddie was the first to lay down flat, blacked out. Walls of smoke surrounded them, and Sam knew her time was limited. She pulled Freddie over her back with difficultly coughing as she moved along. It was hard to find a place where there wasn't fire, but she managed to find a way through pure smoke. Sam ran. Branches were falling and cracking, and finally, she stumbled to the ground. She crawled next to Freddie, as the flames grew closer.

"I'm sorry." She whispered, and collapsed, her arm draped over his chest as she lay, coughing, face flat. Freddie pulled her close, coughing.

Was this how it was going to end?

Blackness.

Freddie awoke, but found there was no Sam in his grip. Was he dead? He screamed with surprise, scrambling back from a wall of fire. Guffaws of laughter rose, and he sat up, finding himself in the center of about five dark colored boys sitting around the circle of a tame, tall fire. An unwelcome smoky taste lingered in his throat.

The boys were dressed in baggy clothes, all of their clothes, including their faces, and hands mostly, charred with ash. Scars of burns were apparent on their arms. The after noon light filtered down through the trees.

"Where's Sam?" Freddie asked.

"See Alvin?" A boy nudged a rather short of the dark brown boys. Freddie could detect a rich French accent. "I told you he is American!" The boy who had nudged Alvin announced, tossing around piece of wood into the fire.

"I thought he was a German! You can't blame me, Dennis." Alvin scowled, watching the fire.

"I thought he was Russian." A rather tall boy added.

"Me too, Edmund." A stocky boy agreed to the tall boy named Edmund. The stocky boy had a lot of scars, and the most ashes on his tattered clothes. He seemed more matured than the other boys, but Edmund, who looked younger, was taller.

"Man, you guys are clueless!" Dennis sneered.

"Shut it, Dennis." Freddie was surprised to hear a girl's voice scold Dennis.

"Aw, I'm just playing, Caroline." Dennis scratched his head. The girl addressed as Caroline had her hair pulled back, mostly hid in a hoodie. She wasn't full of curves – but rather masculine. She too seemed mature like the stocky boy.

"Marcel, why don't you put an end to the white boy's worry and tell him what happened to his girlfriend?" Carolyn turned to the stocky boy, who apparently was called Marcel.

Alvin, Dennis, and Edmund all fell silent. Caroline stood quietly, motioning for Freddie to follow. He didn't bother to correct Caroline – Sam wasn't his girlfriend, just a rush of adrenaline, he assured himself.

They were a ways away from the group, when Caroline began to speak. She was about a foot taller. Her voice was also a rich French accent. "I'm sorry, what is your name?"

"Freddie." Freddie said quietly, eyes set ahead.

"Right, strange name. But I suppose you are American. Listen Fred," She sighed, pausing outside some sort of cloth tent. "I'm sorry about my brothers. They have a strange fascination with fire. It's what made us homeless, our curiosity for fire. I guess we never learned." Caroline pushed the tent open, ducking her head in. They kneeled next to each other, and in the dim light, she lit a match.

Sam lay before him. She was covered in cuts, burns, and bruises.

"… What did you do to her?" Freddie asked shakily.

"She did it to herself, dragging you away from the fire. It took us awhile to realize anybody was still alive. We thought we were catching some sort of animals in the bush when we set the fire." Caroline spoke lowly.

"You set the fire?" Freddie asked angrily. He had lost all his valuable survival equipment.

"Listen to my story before you judge us, boy." Caroline snapped.

Freddie fell silent, and listened as the strange girl told her tale.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

**Strange cliffhanger, huh?**

**You really can't tell what's going on at this point.**

**It'll explain itself next chapter. :P**

**Review! Review! Review!  
**


	13. Bruises and Burnmarks

Freddie sat by Sam's head, staring at her assortments of cuts, bruises and burns. He opened his mouth to speak, but Caroline slapped his rather rudely.

"No, you do not speak while I tell you. If you do, you get a smack on your face, got eet?" Caroline snarled. Freddie nodded vigorously.

"Here it goes, Bush Boy. Listen closely.

"Long time ago, many years back, we were born. We were average family, not rich, nor poor. We had doting mother and father, and all of us about a year or two year apart. Marcel is eldest, 19, me, Caroline, is second eldest, 18, and only sister. Then there is Edmund, 16, Dennis, 14, and Alvin, 12.

"We always had a fascination for fire. We even walked on coals when our parents were working overtime. But one day, my mom worried. She takes us into doctor. Doctor says we have some sort of disorder, and suggests we go away from home to heal.

"We were all angry, and didn't want to leave. And when we are angry, we burn. We set the trash on fire in the house, but it got out of hand. Mother and Father were sleeping, and we didn't have smoke alarm. Our parent's bedroom was cut off, and we had no choice but to run for our lives, or force to be separated and torn from our ways when social people come. Marcel was only 14; I was only 13, Edmund 12, Dennis, 9, and Alvin, 7.

"It been five years now. We burn things in the safety of the forest, far away from where we can hurt anyway. We must burn. It is our way. We are like dragons. We are gods of fire!" Caroline's eyes flashed, burning with intensity, before she continued.

"Every year, we go out and find clothes in trash cans. Every month or so, Marcel and one or two of the older brothers head far to the north to get gasoline and matches. We use what we find and live here. This is our home. Call us animals if you will, but we live this way because we choose to. But, even far away from any town, we manage to hurt." Caroline's gaze stepped from Freddie to Sam.

"She will be fine, Fredmund." Caroline nodded. It was obvious she didn't know his name very well.

"But can I ask what you were doing, way out here in middle of French mountains?" Caroline tested.

"Well, long story short, our plane crashed. We made our way up the mountain, figuring a plane would be able to see us better at the peak. Sam—"

"—Your girlfriend?" Caroline asked.

"No, no. We're friends. We did get caught up in the moment, but I don't know if we can honestly have a relationship. It was adrenaline, I guess."

"Then how Sam going to react when she find out she drag you out of fire just to be dumped on her ass?" Caroline angrily slapped the back of his head – hard.

"Ow!" Freddie exclaimed.

"Not my fault you're a stupid white boy!" Caroline snapped.

"You're French, you're white!"

"No, I call myself Ash. See all this soot?" Caroline pointed to herself.

"It is an insult to have un-ashy skin in our ranks. It shows you have no experience with fire." Caroline explained.

"Then… Do you shower?" Freddie asked.

"The only shower we get is rain shower. That's it." Caroline ended it.

Strange ways. But then again, they did have some sort of personality disorder.

"So if you guys visit town every once in awhile, can you show us there?" Freddie asked. Perhaps there was hope.

"No, you will tell about us! You must stay here!" Caroline snarled.

"But—Even if we find our own way home?" Freddie whined.

"We not allow you to leave. You must join our ranks, or we toss you back in fire. We can't risk being found. They find us, we charged with murder – though it was an accident that we killed parents – and they'll separate us. We'll live in some rich house alone or locked up in a cell." Caroline's eyes flashed menacingly, and as Caroline did so, Freddie knew she was serious.

They'd have to get away from these people somehow.


	14. Author's Note: Disclaimer

**DISCLAIMER:**

**I hope there was no reason to put this in.**

**Please keep in mind I was high off sugar, coke, and lots of other things when I made this chapter.**

_**I have absolutely nothing against French people.**_

**Sorry if Caroline calling Freddie a white boy is offensive, but that's just how her character is. Hell guys, I'm half-white. I have French mixed into my bloodline. The only thing I'm not is Asian and African, but for all I know I could be.**

**If this had been in England, they would have been English folk and still calling Freddie a white boy. They are weird, traumatized kids. They don't speak English very well, so please don't think I think French people are stupid or insane. I know a few French folk myself.**

**But it took place in France because that's where mountains were, it was a place where I could smack Freddie and Sam away from civilization, involve nightshade, etc.**

**Once more time,_ I have nothing against French people if you thought this for some reason_.**

**Next chapter tomorrow will be put out tomorrow. Thanks for tuning in.**

**Review!**

**Review!**

**Review!**


	15. New Pet Names

Sam woke with a jump. She sat up, light filtering into the shredded tent. As she sat up, she threw a torn blanket off herself.

"Good, you're awake." Freddie chirped, stirring as well.

"Why do you say?" Sam dusted the ash that clung to her off.

"They want to keep us trapped here."

"Who?" Sam furrowed her eyebrows down.

"These screwed up kids." Freddie half laughed. "But if you can take on the football team, you can take these guys." Freddie nodded. Sam remained confused, her expression unseen in the dark.

"Long story short, let's go." Freddie jumped to his feet, ducking over to avoid messing up the tent. Sam crawled out, Freddie following.

The early morning light basked them. Well worn down trail laid itself before them, and they simply followed it back to the fire, where Alvin and Dennis lay curled next to each other for warmth. It reminded Freddie of dogs. Edmund and Marcel were tossing a few pieces of wood in the fire, while Caroline sat close, her palms exposed to the flames.

"Ah, I see Fredmund woke up. Welcome to the new day." Caroline nodded, turning her attention back to the fire.

"Have you decided to join us?" Marcel looked up, a flash of dominance in his eyes as he watched Freddie.

"No." Freddie said idly in an almost sarcastic way, grinning. Sam followed.

All of the three awake siblings looked at them awkward for a second, and then burst into laughter.

"You're surely not serious, Fredwin?" Marcel asked. This time it was Sam that broke out into laughter.

"These people are the people!" She sneered between laughter. "Why do you want me to break their arms?"

Marcel, Caroline, and Edmund all jumped to their feet, growling like angry animals at the two.

Sam let out her warrior cry, leapt at Marcel, and flipped him over on his own stump he was sitting on. Marcel groaned with pain. Edmund and Caroline leapt for them, but Sam easily flipped both of them over on their sleeping siblings. All of them let out grunts and groans of pain.

Freddie picked up piece of firewood and hit Marcel as he tried to stand.

"Let's make a run for it!" Freddie pointed towards the slightly worn down trail that was leading north – Freddie assumed towards civilization. He was laughing the entire way; amused by the fact that they thought they'd keep them there.

Freddie couldn't help but be thankful that they had a worn down path towards town. It was the great thing about meeting the wilderness smart people.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Their pace was slowed down to a brisk walk, then just an idle stroll towards the top of the mountain. The path must be long to the town, Freddie thought grimly.

The tree line vanished at one point, and now there was nothing but rocks and shrubs as they pushed to the top. The gently sloping mountain had turned to a steep fall. Freddie scrambled to keep pace with Sam, who was obviously very squirrelly and still fit even after her problem two days back. Their conversations was idle, casual, teasing talk.

"Keep up the pace, Fredmund!" Sam happy chirped his new nickname.

"Shut it, Sammich!" Freddie yelled. Sam's response was laughter.

"I actually like that name!" Sam called.

"But then you couldn't enjoy a sandwich without being called a cannibal!"

"True!"

A few rocks had fallen along the way, and at one point Freddie went sliding straight down the mountain. Sam, of course, caught him.

"How many times have I saved your life?" Freddie asked. Sam shrugged.

"Doesn't matter." She growled.

"No, no. I pulled you from the plane, gave you CPR, and I managed to stop you from eating more nightshade. That's three. You owe me, Puckette." Freddie would have shoved her, but that might end up with him having to save her life again.

"I saved your sorry face three times too!" Sam huffed, climbing steadily towards the top. She now had to shimmy along ledges. It was like giant stairs, the mountain was.

"How so?" Freddie scoffed, sitting down on a large ledge to rest. "Phew."

"Well, I dragged you from the fire, saved you from going stumbling down the slope—"

"Wrong, you just saved us from losing time. I would have safely fell, it just would have set us back many feet." Freddie corrected.

"Well, I saved us both from those psycho kids."

Freddie scoffed.

"We could have lived with them. I could have escaped myself, anyhow." Freddie growled, lying on his back.

"How? Talking them to death with your 'superior intellect', Freddork?" Sam snickered.

"Exactly." Freddie replied.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

The night had fallen, many more bickering conversations swapped between the two before they reached the peak. It was very cold and windy, and they both agreed they'd have to camp the night at the peak. They also reasoned with continuing onward.

"The town is obviously to the north." Sam argued. "I say we keep on going."

"It'd take us nearly a month to get to a town! We're at the peak, and I can't see a darn thing from here." Freddie lifted his head, glaring around.

"Well, we're off course, so how would a rescue plane be able to find us?" Sam snapped.

"Well they—" Freddie dropped his chin into his hand.

"You're right." He moaned. "But I don't want to go."

There was silence, before Sam piped up.

"It'd be nice if we had a blanket." Sam scowled.

"Or even a pillow." Freddie whined. He glanced at Sam.

"No!" Sam snarled.

"Even after—"

"I said no, Bensen! Drop it!"

"How'd you know I was going to suggest—"

"Don't you dare."

"Aw, c'mon, Sam. We've gotten cozy enough with each other already, right?"

"That's just the thing. Sam Puckette does NOT get cozy enough to sleep without clothes with someone!"

"… Woah, wrong mental image."

Sam hit him upside the head.

"You know what I mean."

"It's classic survival. Cuddle without clothes to transfer body heat and keep each other warm."

"No way. Uh-uh."

"Not even after we got mistaken for animals in the bush while making out?" Freddie sneered. Sam growled a wordless growl.

"Freddie, you and I both know we got caught up in the moment." Sam sighed.

"Yeah, I know, but that doesn't mean we're going to sacrifice our lives because of your self-pride—wait, what?" Freddie scratched his head.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I was freaking out. I could have taken anything at that moment." Sam sighed again.

"I was going to try and tell you the same thing." Freddie looked awkwardly off to the side.

"Friends then?" Freddie asked.

"Close friends." Sam nodded.

"Keep-warm-for-survival?" Freddie pressed.

"NO!" Sam snapped.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Needless to say, Freddie won the argument after strong gusts of frigid wind began to whip over the peak of the mountain.

While Sam wasn't willing to strip down to transfer body heat, they sat miserably, holding each other as the wind battered them.

"A fire would be nice, Fredwin!" Sam chattered.

"I can't find any flint, otherwise I would start a fire." Freddie sighed.

"Then this is going to be a miserable night." Sam groaned.

"Unless you're willing to help me look for flint?" Freddie grunted.

Sam jumped to her feet.

"What does it look like?" She asked, dashing around. Something struck Freddie.

"Sam…" Freddie began.

"What does it look like?" She growled, dashing around.

"Sam, we're even further off course than we thought!" Freddie yelled.

"How do you know?"

"Well, the pilot said that we were flying over the mountains."

"Your point?" Sam grunted.

"These aren't mountains, Sam. They're really, really steep hills. If they were mountains, there would be snow, and it would be a lot harder to climb than a few days worth." Freddie finished.

"So… what does this change?" Sam asked, picking up a stone and eyeing it."

"It means we're closer to civilization. There are more and more towns as you go away from the mountains."

"Yeah, yeah." Sam walked over, and dropped a stone in Freddie's hand.

"This good?" Sam asked.

"Well, let's find some shrubs and such. It'll be hard to keep it burning without tree wood, though the tree line isn't that far down if we're on a hill, not a mountain." Freddie called. "We can get a bit of sleep, then travel down the hill to the tree line."

After the two had collected enough bush branches, shrubs, leaves and grass, Freddie was able to start a fire using the pocketknife and flint.

Once the fire was roaring, Freddie sat, arm outstretched. Hesitantly, Sam crawled into his outstretched arm, and scooted closer. They rested their head's against each other, and listened to the crackling fuel as it burned.

The stars glared overhead, and their time to sleep would be short lived as the fire began to die down.


	16. Huff, Huff, Huff

Things I have to get off my chest.

Ugh, iThink They Kissed was a let down.

Spoilers from me; besides the fact it was waaaay to short and nothing but whining.

I was also expecting a beat-down to Freddie, but Sam surprised me when she picked him up and threw him on the couch instead of beating his brains in.

Shout-Out to:

Eeveelution-Fangirl – Thanks for regularly reviewing. (:

Also, I'm planning a one-shot:

iAccidently Kiss – In the setting of iPie, Freddie and Sam accidentally kiss when wrestling over the keyboard, and everyone comes in to see a rather strange scene.

And, I'm debating between:

1: iAmnesia – Either Sam or Freddie gets amnesia and becomes infatuated with the other.

Q: If I do end up doing iAmnesia, which should get amnesia – Freddie or Sam?

2: iDiscover Seddie – While surfing the Internet for reviews on iCarly, Freddie somehow pushes into our world through the Internet, and discovers the mass number of Seddie shippers from our world.

Q: If I do this one, what sort of sites should they find? , YouTube, Seddie2ya?

And that's all. Enjoy this chapter, please.

=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Both of them had woken up early. The fire had easily died down, quickly eating through the fuel provided.

Freddie awoke first – raised when a huge weight fell upon him. Apparently Sam fell sideways during their small slumber, and was lying on Freddie.

Sam had woken up due to her hunger.

Her stomach snarled at her, causing her to sit up and put her hand over her tum.

"Aw man, when can we eat?" Sam groaned, tossing her head up towards the standing Freddie.

"Whenever you get moving. All I have is a pocket knife, so." Freddie rubbed his eyes tiredly. Neither one of them had gotten any sleep.

"Ugh, can we just sit and talk for a bit? I'm ready to drop dead." Freddie groaned.

"Sure… Sure… So uh… I guess your mom is freaking out?" Sam asked.

"Ch'yeah. I'm sure she is. They probably think we're all dead." Freddie thought sadly.

"Hey, cheer up Frediot." Sam smiled, gently punching him. Freddie rubbed his shoulder, shrugging.

"Carly is probably crushed right now. I wonder what ended up happening with the Entertainment Awards." Freddie sighed.

"Well, hopefully Carly knows now what she's lost, Fredward." Sam remarked. Freddie looked confused, but Sam quickly continued.

"I wonder if they're arranging a funeral." Sam thought out loud.

"Eh, they'll probably look for two or three weeks before proclaiming us dead." Freddie guessed.

"Good, I don't want them to have to remake my birth certificate or something." Sam shook her head.

"Shall we get moving, then?" Freddie asked, grunting as he began to stand up.

"Only if we find food." Sam growled.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Past the tree line, Freddie honed in a on a bush of wild strawberries. Just their luck – and instead of making a mess, they savored the food. They ate vigorously, loving the strawberries versus the half-bitter raspberries.

Sam bit off the top and spat it out before digging in, while Freddie daintily picked off the leaves before taking in a bite of the ripe, juicy, soft fruit. Bliss spread through them, and both of them agreed they must have been there forever, stuffing themselves full of strawberries. By the time they were finished, several bits of the fruit still hung to Sam's lips.

"Uuuugh… I ate enough to be as fat as you." Sam waved her arm, smacking Freddie's chest. Freddie just scoffed and rolled his eyes. He had learned not to give Sam a reaction.

Huff. Huff. Huff.

"Jeeze, Sam, are you still feeling sick?" Freddie asked.

Huff. Huff. Huff.

"That isn't me, Freddie!" Sam snapped. They both turned, and found that the heavy breath of an angry animal was blowing into their face.

=-=-=-=-

Short, but at least I left you with a cliffhanger, right? ;P


	17. Freddie's Teddy Bear

Freddie and Sam screamed in unison.

The bear let out a low, "Rrrrrruuuuffff."

Sam and Freddie sat, frozen to the spot, and the bear leaned forward and sniffed Sam's face.

Its breath was hot and heavy. The brown bear began to stand, and let out a roar. Sam screeched and began to run.

"Sam, don't run—" But it was too late as Freddie called out the warning. The bear gave chase, ignoring the strawberries and going for the thrill of a hunt. Freddie growled, and whipped out his knife, racing after the speeding bear.

Sam was running as fast as her legs could carry her, and she could easily hear the bear crashing through the undergrowth, it's heavy breath on her heels.

"FREDDIE! FREDDIE! HELP!" She screamed, breaking her strides as she looked back. A sharp pain connected to the back of her leg when the bear swatted at her, and she fell with a defiant cry. She screamed as she felt a heavy mass of come over her, and claws digging into her legs. She closed her eyes and screamed for Freddie.

Scrrrit!

There was a sound like something slicing open, and the bear stumbled back, roaring with anger filled pain as it shook it's bleeding nose. Freddie had come in from the side and cut open the bear's nose.

"That got him off, but it only made him even more angry." Freddie growled. "Why did you run?" Freddie snapped, helping Sam to her feet while the bear was recoiling. He passed the knife to Sam, figuring she'd be able to handle it better than he could. The bear was snarling, it's fur puffed out. As it stood, Sam began to shake; she could have sworn it was buildings tall.

"Stand your ground, and back. Away. Slowly. Do not, I repeat, do not, look him in the eye." Freddie hissed between his teeth. The bear watched angrily as they began to back away, but didn't want to get cut again. The brown creature eyed the knife, and with a huff of defeat, waddled away for an easier meal such as the strawberry bush.

Breathing heavily, Sam flopped on the ground.

"Thanks, Freddie." She wiped her forehead in relief, but didn't let go of the knife, just in case.

"Let's add another time to the times I have saved you life, shall we?" Freddie sneered, beginning to stand. He offered a hand to Sam, who took it, too shaken to be cocky and defiant.

"Those gauze pads would be nice." Sam grumbled, limping on her cut up leg.

"Ugh, I didn't notice that. Here, do you need help?" He offered to help her walk, but she pushed him away.

"I'm not some toddler that needs help walking." Sam growled, but as she walked, her leg buckled out from under her. Freddie sighed, offering hand, which Sam didn't take immediately (she tried to get up a few times), but eventually took the help. Freddie put his arm around her, and Sam draped her arm over his shoulder.

They walked in silence; the only noise was Freddie's steady footfalls and Sam's irregular limp.

They traveled like that a long time, steadily down the slope of the hill. The brush was once more an issue, constantly getting in the way as they walked along. They could faintly make out the covered trail of the ash kids (as Freddie called them) towards town, and kept along that way. They even found some old fire pits they had built.

At the sign of storm when thunder rumbled in the distance, Freddie set Sam aside to rest on a tree, while he built a pathetic lean to by cutting off branches of low-hanging trees and weaving the thin twigs and branches on each longer, thick branch together.

Soon, he had a long plank of wood, and settled under it just in time for a light drizzle to begin. It wasn't as cold, so they didn't cuddle together, but rather just leaned against the tree their lean-to was leaning against as well side-by-side.

However, it was difficult to sleep for both of them with Sam's stomach once more roaring with hunger.


	18. Meanwhile

They had arrived to the airport, Spencer, Carly, and Mrs. Benson. It was very difficult to sway Mrs. Benson to come along to the hotel; she wanted to greet her son. Spencer assured her that Sam and Freddie had money in their packs to catch a cab.

They had been waiting in their hotel room, for a long time, over an hour or so, unease rising equally between each person.

Where could they be?

That's when they got the call to Mrs. Benson's phone.

"Hello?" She peeped into the phone.

"Are you Mrs. Benson?" The voice on the other line was grave, gravelly, and raspy, that of an older gentleman with quite an accent.

"Yes I am."

"We have some bad news."

"What is it?"

"The plane your son was on, most likely crashed."

"I knew it! I knew I couldn't have trust in the transportation system!" Mrs. Benson screeched in anger filled sorrow.

"Mrs. Benson, for all we know, your son could still be alive, though it isn't likely either him or anyone else aboard the plane survived should it have crashed."

"Will there be a search party?"

"Yes, and you may join us at this address:" The man listed off an address.

"I'll be there!" Mrs. Benson slapped the phone shut. She sat on the bed, her expression filled with horror, before she dropped her face into her hands.

"Mrs. Benson, what's wrong?" Carly stepped over her luggage, and sat next to the mother of her friend.

"I knew this was a bad idea! I had a gut feeling!" Mrs. Benson yelled into her hands.

"What happened?" Spencer crawled over the bed, and sat on the other side of Mrs. Benson.

"Freddie and Sam's plane crashed!" Mrs. Benson wailed, bawling into her hands.

Carly and Spencer fell silent.

"…Are… Are they dead?"

"They haven't found the plane yet, though they believe that the plane crashed."

"How do they know?" Spencer asked.

"I'm not sure." Mrs. Benson sobbed.

Carly felt a rush of emotions.

Would she ever see Sam or Freddie again? What would happen to her?

As if their minds were thinking alike, Mrs. Benson and Carly grabbed each other and began to rock back and forth, crying.

"They might still be alive." Spencer sighed.

"If a plane crashed in the French mountains, I doubt they're alive." Carly wailed.

"They might have had to land somewhere and just couldn't get in contact."

"There's such thing as a radio, Spencer." Carly went on. "And if they landed in an airport or anywhere else, they would have been able to get in touch and let us know they were ok!" Carly finished.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

It had been four days.

The search party was showing no avail in finding them. They stayed on course as they looked, not finding a body, a plane, or even any parts and pieces.

It was as if they had vanished into thin air.

The disappearance of the plane was all over the news for a few days, before people lost interest in the story.

The Entertainment Awards went on without them, and all three of them waited, with no news.

Things were growing grim.

Everyday, Carly, Mrs. Benson's, and Spencer's hope grew fainter.

Sometimes, Carly would sit in the tub, and think of what she had lost.

Sam, who was always bringing humor to the new day.

Freddie, who would do anything for Carly.

She had lost her best friends, and understood now that she could only appreciate them now that they were gone.

Spencer was arranging for them to head back home.

But what kind of home was it?

Without a mother, without a father.

Without a sister like friend like Sam, or a almost brotherly guy like Freddie, what kind of home would it be?

An empty home.


	19. They've Stopped Running Away

Eat.

Sleep.

Travel.

Eat.

Sleep.

Travel.

Eat.

Sleep.

Travel.

With lots of bickering in-between.

Some nights, they cuddled together for warmth.

Others, they sat away from each other.

Some days, they could find some berries or leaves to eat, or if they were luckily, caught a squirrel or rabbit.

Others, they went without food.

This is how it went for about a week.

10 days in the wilderness with nothing but each other.

By the end of the 10th day, their clothes were tattered, torn, burnt and bloody.

Their faces were similar to that of their clothes.

Their shoes were shredded and patchy.

Sam's hair was tangled and greasy. Instead of Freddie's hair sticking up with gel, it only slopped over.

In the short time, they had grown rather thin and wiry.

Their eyes were sunken and flashing with tales of their short time in the wilderness.

They had traveled up and down many hills, and must have covered at least fifty miles.

It was the eleventh day, and they were trekking up the side of the hill. The tree line just barely disappeared at the very top of the hill – they could see it before they reached there.

The day began like any other, waking up halfway up the hill. This time, it had been rather cold, and the two were curled together for warmth. Freddie rolled over as he awoke, holding onto Sam.

"We have to be close to home by now." He rasped unhappily.

Sam held him back.

"We'll make it there, just keep your dorky little head up, Fredward." Sam mumbled.

The fire had died down to burning coals, and both of them stared sadly down at the fire.

Sam scooted closer to Freddie, and they held each other, staying still and silent. The only sound was their breath, the morning life, and if you listened hard enough, perhaps you could hear tears rolling down their cheeks.

"We just have to have hope, Sam." Freddie spoke softly.

They mustered up the encouragement to keep on going, to not just lie down and die.

No breakfast that day for them.

They steadily climbed, the usual bickering flying.

"So I was thinking of a new segment for iCarly." Freddie called.

"What's it called, run from the bear?" Sam half scowled. Freddie laughed.

"No, it's called let's see if anyone else could survive being stuck in the wilderness like a tech-slash-city boy and a constantly eating, yet tough, and at the same time, pretty blonde chick." Freddie flashed a smile as he passed Sam, who was aghast for a moment, but shook it away and caught up.

"You forgot that you're also smart!"

=-=-=-=-=

Sam and Freddie sat up, lying around the fire as it blazed, lighting up a small area with a gentle glow.

They could almost hear music as they pulled themselves together, not for the warmth, but for the comfort. It felt like they were in a movie as they glanced up at the sky.

Millions of bright stars stared back at them.

_Did I tell you I knew your name…_

_But it seems that I've lost it._

_Did I tell you its my own game._

_This is not your problem._

_I don't know if I'm going to change,_

_Wasting time and another day…_

_I keep running away, even from the good things._

They both found themselves replaying that time on the fire escape.

Freddie leaned over, pressing his lips to Sam's, who was lit up back a backlight.

Sam seemed stunned, but as they replayed this moment, she was able to deepen the keep.

_I keep running away, even from the good things…._

"L'homm j'aime cette chanson, même si c'est la musique américaine...

Regardez hé, c'est ces gamins qui étaient partout dans les nouvelles. Je me demande étaient ils ont été les deux semaines passées. Hé, vous là!"

Freddie and Sam found themselves pulling away, startled by the French words.

They turned, to see two night strollers, a boy holding a boom box, a girl who was holding his free hand.

"What?" Freddie asked, scooting away from Sam uncomfortably.

"Oh yeah, you are American. I forgot. You are Sam and Freddie, right?"

They were stunned that the two people knew their names.

"You're been missing for almost two weeks, what are you doing here on the side of a trail, making out? Did you run away, or what? I thought the news said your plane went missing…" The boy scratched his head.

"I think it's _romantic_." The girl cooed.

Both of them flushed red.

"And you better kill the fire, or you'll get in trouble. You're not supposed to burn fires out here." The boy laughed. "Come with us, we'll take you home."


	20. What Feelings?

Carly woke.

The morning began like any other.

Her P.J's on, she threw off the covers.

She brushed her teeth, all just things she did without thought.

She had been in somewhat of a daze. They had discontinued the search and it was thought they had died.

Both Spencer and Carly had made their way to the table quietly.

The only noise was the sizzle of the cooking food, the clattering of plates as the table was set, and the opening and closing of the cabinets.

It all felt very empty. Carly just picked at her food unhappily. Spencer was better, but ate rather slow, watching Carly. Finally, he broke the silence.

"Why won't you eat, Carly?" Spencer snapped. "You're going to get sick."

"I don't care." Carly retorted crossly.

"Carly, as your guardian, I have to—"

Brirrrriing! Brrrring!

The phone rung.

"Hold that thought!" Spencer wagged a finger at Carly, and picked up the phone.

He hopped from his seat, crossed the room and picked up his phone, swiftly pressing the phone to his ear.

"Hello? Yes, this is Spencer. Yes we did." Spener paused. He screeched through his hands and threw his fists in the air. "That is great! Did you let the others know? Okay.. Okay… Good. Thanks! Yeah! Bye!"

Spencer puffed out his cheek.

"Carly, you better eat and get dressed. Freddie and Sam are on their way home!"

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Clunk, rattle, rattle.

The plane came to a rough stop. They had decided to fly a commercial plane home this time, so that lightning would be channeled away instead of messing with the plane.

Freddie and Sam let out a collective sigh of relief as they safely landed. They quickly made their way out, and ran, smiles on their faces as they ran towards the building. They had settled everything in Europe with the missing persons thing, gotten a hotel, cleaned up, and a decent meal, and now waited seeing their mothers.

Freddie couldn't have been happier to be in the center of people. Sam and Freddie gasped, amazed by all the people around them.

The taste of home came closer and closer, and as Freddie was searching the crowd, he yelled out, "MOM!" He pushed through the crowd, Sam trailing after. Freddie ran into his mother's open arms, and for the first time in a long time, he smelled her smell. Mm, soap and hospital smell. He loved.

Sam ran into her mom's arms as well, but her smell was changed. Instead of cigarettes and dust, she smelled nice. She looked different too.

Many quick, rushed, happy tears and words were shared between their parents.

And before they knew it, they were escorted to the cars, and on their way home.

=-=-=-=-=-

Sam had asked to be dropped off with Freddie, so that she could see Carly.

As they were heading up the stairs, Mrs. Benson said, "Now, let's stop in the Shay's apartment." She pushed open the door. Freddie and Sam shared a look and smile, and draped an arm over each other, ready to face the party that awaited them.

"FREDDIE! SAM! WELCOME HOME!" Everyone screamed in unison.

Bright foils and balloons covered the entire place.

From minor acquaintances to trusted family, everyone was there.

Carly was the first to rush forward, and hugged Freddie, who had mixed feelings upon her touch. Spencer hugged Sam, and then they traded. Spencer gave Freddie a manly hug, while Carly rocked back and forth with Sam as they hugged.

Everyone was cheering and clapping. Tears were streaming down Carly's face.

"I never knew how much I loved you two until you were gone, oh my god." Carly exclaimed, shaking with happiness.

"And Freddie, I'm so sorry I never appreciated you—" She leaned over to try and kiss him, but Freddie, with a single swift movement, stopped her with a finger.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm returning your feelings, why?" Carly was confused.

"What feelings?" He smiled. Everyone shared a gasp of surprise. Almost everyone knew that Freddie had a crush on Carly.

What happened?

Sam sheepishly stepped back into the crowd.

"No, c'mon Sam, let's share what happened." Freddie held out his hand to Sam, who took it, glaring at Freddie.

"I hate people."

"Even after all that?"

"Yes, still."

Carly's expression was shocked and confused as Freddie held Sam's hand, dragging her up to the stage. He pulled up a chair for the both of them, and began a tale.


	21. Epilouge

Freddie unraveled his tale, and everyone watched with both horror and amusement, and discovered why Freddie no longer had a crush on Carly.

The days went on, and the group grew closer. The bickering and fighting between the two was still the same, but this time, Sam would think twice before breaking Freddie's arm.

The family in the wilderness luckily recovered from Sam's beating, and after coming to their senses, followed the two back into the city. Turns out their parents didn't really die – and had been looking for them.

Though Freddie and Sam had grown a lot tighter, one couldn't say they were meant for each other.

But they were definitely always jumping into things afterwards together.

They had grown together tightly, and now had this habit of looking out for each other.

Someone posted up a picture of Freddie sleeping with a teddy bear? Well, Sam of course got a kick out of it, insulting him, but wasn't long before she hunted down the jerk who did it.

Sam gets dumped by her new boyfriend – guess who's there to comfort her?

While she didn't cry, and tried to avoid it as much as possible, they managed to have a fun time in making fun of her ex.

Carly always remained somewhat confused, and even after hearing the tale, she was almost surprised that Freddie wasn't there for her to fall back on as much.

Though the two were close, they fell back to their old habits of bickering, fighting, etc.

It seemed as if though they cared for each other, they had forgotten their time together where they fought Mother Nature itself side-by-side.

It seemed they had moved on from their feelings, as they took on other dates, when one day, Freddie found a quote on the computer.

He read it to Sam, and when asked if she would do it for him, she agreed that she would.

**Don't walk in front of me, I may not follow.**

**Don't walk behind me, I may not lead.**

**Walk beside me and be my friend.**

**-Albert Camus**


End file.
